I'm Glad You Were Born

 So, I've written and complained in the last post, and I hope I've written myself out of my funk.  Cotton Babies--the only place I'll buy my nappies from--sponsored a contest last year and is doing so again.

Check out their blog for details!!!  (There was supposed to be a link I could copy and paste and have a graphic, but for whatever reason, I can't get it to work)

Can I put into only 250 words what my children mean to me?  The Princess?  Bubba?  The Pea?  I'll try.  Feeling the Pea's rolls and kicks remind me of the rolls and kicks of the other two.  Those moments that were just mine.  I need to do some more thinking.

What about your children?

mother's day

Saturday my husband brought us breakfast in bed--since both children had crawled in our bed and left no room for him and since he was awake anyway, he made cinnamon toast and tea for us.  He had also remembered to buy cards for the kids to give me for Mother's Day (which was sweet).  Mother's Day--he had the kids sign the cards while I sat in the kitchen.  Mother's Day meal--hot dogs and pork and beans. He prepared it.  Mother's Day supper--I made BLTs for the Princess and I and a turkey sandwich for Bubba.  My husband made himself cheese and tomato sandwiches.  Mother's Day gift?  He said he ordered one, think he has it, didn't get it yesterday.  I'm sure he'll remember tomorrow.  I have one of the most wonderful husbands in the world, and he shows his love on a daily basis. 

In one way, I really don't like this one day of the year that is so hyped up that it can do little but lead to both bittersweet joy and sadness.

The greatest pain of Mother's Day is being motherless.  And that colours everything else.